Redeem Me
by maya295
Summary: House/Cuddy season 6 - Lucas is still very much around - at first - but, be not afraid, the purpose is to get rid of him... and then move on to the real deal. Lots of UST and some passionate arguments, but not for any reason... ;P
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone!_

_So… it's quite a surprise, at least for me, but here I am, back with a new story! Well, not really that "new" to be honest because, as it turns out, this story was lying, forgotten, in a dusty corner of my computer since AGES…. And when I say ages, I don't mean since last week. Actually, I'd started to write this story in Dec. 2009, which if you remember was just before the Christmas hiatus of season 6. Episode 6x10, "Wilson" had just aired. I had a very precise idea of what I wanted to do with it by the time, so I'd started writing it. The beginning of the first chapter was done, pretty fast, then I'd skipped all the less exciting, yet necessary, parts in between (which I had in my head anyway) to write the House/Cuddy tension coz it's the core of this fic. So, even though I had a big chunk of it ready, I couldn't post it since all I seemed to be able to write was everything at the end and not the rest of it! Ugh…_

_Anayway, Dec 2009… Lucas, if you remember, was still very much around. But I'd found a way to get rid of him…. Hehe. ;P_

_Then, as always, especially with me - those of you who read my other stories know how useless I am as a writer… *sigh* - time passed by. And I found myself writing "His Last Chance" first - *insert shameless plug here* :D - instead of continuing that one, then I posted for IYLM in priority, and so before I knew it, BAM! Season 6 was finished and "Help Me" aired._

_I'm not pretending that what I had in mind for that story was anywhere near what "Help Me" offered us but, somehow, some key plots of my story were quite similar (and big ones…) so I thought there was no point at all anymore for me to try to propose a story that would follow a "similar" pattern after that. And I let it lie._

_And then, more time passed and recently, I thought, WTH? Why would I bother? I usually hate, truly hate, when my timing sucks so bad that what I wanted to write happens, somehow, in the show but now, the show is over. What happened, happened and I realized it was stupid to leave something that I once found exciting just because the script of the show took a similar direction. Of course, if ONLY I had posted that one in December or even, just sometime in the next few months instead of being lazy, that'd have made me prouder… for sure. Coz, well, you'll see why, but damn… ;P_

_Anyway, lovely people, I hope you'll still like this story. GOOD NEWS is, unlike what I usually make you endure, this time I FINISHED the story before I decided to post it! Which means, you won't have to wait for weeks *cough* months *cough* to have it complete… That's a good thing, right?_

_And don't forget: it's season 6, post "Wilson," so Lucas is still there, BUT like all of my stories anyway, this is a HOUSE/CUDDY fanfiction. There'll be FOUR chapters. The first one has a small Huddy bit in it but focuses mostly on other things… But the rest of the fic is, I promise, 100% House/Cuddy… So hang in there!_

_And, if you want to leave me a little sign on your way out after you read, you're VERY welcome. Yes, very…_

_Also, when I first started to write this fic I'd promised a dear friend of mine that I'd do it for her. So, this fic is dedicated to **Leesa**…_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the show House. Duh. I only borrowed its original characters._

* * *

**** REDEEM ME ****

**Chapter 1**

"I don't understand why you're not angrier. I mean Jesus, Lise, they stole your dream!"

Cuddy slowly turned around, and leaning back against her kitchen counter, she smiled softly.

"That's kind of an overstatement, don't you think?" she said gently. "Don't get me wrong, I loved that loft, just as much as you did. But there're plenty of other condos out there… and we're not homeless," she added with a slight pout.

It'd been a few weeks actually, since Lucas had suddenly gotten obsessed with the idea of them moving in together into a new place and she was having mixed feelings about it. Of course it was great, to have him, to have a man, who cared; who wasn't afraid of assuming the responsibility of a child that was not his own. Yet, no matter how hard she would try to convince herself that the dream was just perfect, she still couldn't suppress the feeling of oddity that was oppressing her, and creating that lump in her throat sometimes.

She had a house; one that she'd bought herself, back to the time when she was alone. It meant something to her. She loved her house. She loved her garden, and her porch outside the front door. She loved the memories she had in that place. Rachel, for example, had spent her first night there. It meant something! And she'd also made her first steps, right in that kitchen, on an afternoon, not so long ago, when she'd spotted Lisa with a cookie in her hand and, not even realizing it, had gotten up and then stumbled a few inches just to grab the biscuit, before falling into her stunned mother's arms with a proud giggle.

Rachel. Her daughter was unquestionably her priority. So many things had changed in her life since her. Cuddy would never be able to express how grateful she was for whatever higher power or fateful irony had made that little girl cross her way. And now, she couldn't even begin to imagine how it would feel not to have her in her life anymore.

She remembered all too well how excruciating the pain of losing Joy had been; and how unexpected and confusing the consolation price had been too… He, showing up at her door, looking almost as much as a mess as she was herself. He, with this unforgettable panicked gaze, just before he'd leaned down to her face. He, giving her that passionate and incomprehensible kiss, almost with the energy of despair… Just before he'd left her there, crazed, forever changed and wondering…

"Hey! Where are you?" Lucas's voice asked, jolting her out of her mind numbness.

He'd come closer, without her noticing it and he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into his arms. She stiffened, almost unnoticeably and then squirmed a little inside his embrace. Her eyes briefly met Lucas' inquiring gaze and she felt unmasked, as if she feared that her face could betray her thoughts.

But still, why would she? Why did she have to be so uncomfortable and guilty each time her mind drifted away and brought memories of _him_ back in her mind? It meant nothing anyway, didn't it?

She wiggled to set herself free from Lucas' embrace and stepped away, laughing coyly to hide her embarrassment.

"I'm here, with you," she answered, a little breathlessly.

"Yes, I know but still, we could be in the loft right now if they hadn't-"

"Please, Lucas. Can we stop talking about this?" she pleaded, with a tired smile.

Lucas got close again and enfolded her in her arms.

"What are you ready to do in exchange for me not talking about it anymore?" he asked, with a teasing edge to his voice.

She started to giggle, as he determinedly pushed her out of the kitchen, and towards the bedroom, but half way along the hallway, she made him stop. Lucas straightened up and scrutinized her with a quizzical stare.

"I just put Rachel to bed," she explained.

"And?" Lucas answered, not buying her excuse and pushing her again.

Cuddy let him lead her to the bedroom but, deep within her, it was impossible not to register the slight reluctance she was feeling, almost in spite of herself. The few, rushed minutes it lasted didn't soothe her like she wanted to be, and right afterwards, she fell asleep, frustrated and with a feeling of odd uneasiness inside of her that she couldn't really define, or maybe refused to acknowledge…

#####

At first, Cuddy had felt a little bit angry about the loft, but she'd soon moved on and she really wanted Lucas to do the same. Somehow, even if it had annoyed her, more out of principle than anything else to be honest, she wasn't that excited about the idea of moving into a fancy place downtown, where she'd have lost her garden to the benefit of some hipster place she had never craved for real to begin with. Yet, the following days, Lucas had kept finding pretexts to mention it to her, always wanting to push her to admit that she should feel upset about something that, in truth, had become a secondary matter to her. It'd begun to unnerve her. She'd kept trying to reassure him about them not needing any loft of any sort just to be together but he would insist all the same, saying how infuriating it was to be "dispossessed" of something that was meant to belong to her.

_Dispossessed_. That's the word Lucas had used and it'd felt out of line to her. She couldn't understand what this obsession of his really was about and she'd started to feel uncomfortable whenever he would start bringing the subject up when they were together. She wanted her life to be quiet and simple and she didn't need that kind of stress at all. Not at all.

One evening, Lucas and she were in the living room, watching TV while Rachel was already asleep. She was lying on the couch, his arm around her shoulder and she was drifting into sleep, the movie they were watching another one of those teenagers' blockbusters Lucas was fond of but which didn't appeal to her.

"Just you know, I heard Wilson has moved into the loft," he suddenly said, out of the blue.

She stiffened in his arm, already bracing herself for another unpleasant conversation.

"Oh, really?" she said, trying to sound interested but visibly miserably failing to hide her annoyance.

Lucas straightened up to face her, heedless of the fact that it forced her to shift abruptly from her previous position to sit up as well. Cuddy sighed heavily hoping he'd make him notice, but he didn't even pay attention and frowned at her disapprovingly.

"Don't you feel at least a little bit upset about it?" he said, reproachfully.

"Why would I? It's done. There's nothing much we can do right now. Plus, moving in seems like the next logical step after buying a new place, don't you think? Why should it be a surprise?"

She sounded almost like a mother reassuring a pouting child to her ears and there was nothing she hated more than that. The last thing she wanted was to have to deal with Lucas' moody temper, when what she really needed in her life was a man who would take care of _her_, and _her_ needs.

"But Lisa, come on. You wanted that loft-"

"Lucas, _please_, we've had that conversation, like, a million times already. I know you're upset. And I'm upset too-"

"Don't seem that upset to me."

"Maybe not as upset as _you are_ but, that's because it's the reasonable thing to do. We'll find another place. There're plenty of apartments on sale. Some of which are lofts. Maybe even better than that one, who knows?" she said with a smile, trying to sound optimistic.

"Alright. Yeah, you're right," he caved, with a grumble. "You're just too conciliatory, you know. That's what angers me the most. It's like you didn't even care about losing that loft."

"I did," she cooed again. She raised her hand and caressed his cheek gently. Lucas smiled, appeased by her gesture.

He extended his arm again and she repositioned herself in his embrace, returning her attention towards the TV screen and inwardly sighing in relief that the conversation was finally over.

"House is moving there too, apparently," Lucas added after a few minutes. His tone was somewhat daring, even though it was obvious he wanted to make it sound offhand.

"Oh," she said, hoping he wouldn't register the surprise in her voice. "How do you know that?"

There was a beat, during which she felt Lucas' face slowly tilting down to look at her.

"I'm a P.I, remember?"

She swallowed, somewhat feeling uncomfortable, and lifted her face to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, I know that," she said smiling, "but… why is it relevant here? You're not _investigating_ them, are you?"

"No, not investigating, just gathering information here and there," he said, sticking out his chest proudly.

Cuddy inhaled slowly, feeling a bit confused.

"So how did you do?" she asked casually, not wanting to let her interest show through too much.

"I hung out with that Aussie guy in the doctor lounge yesterday. We chatted a bit."

"Chase?"

"Yeah, the blond one."

"Oh," she said again, shifting ever so slightly inside his arm. "And, err… what did he say?"

"About what?" Lucas said, intrigued by her sudden curiosity.

"About, I don't know, about the whole thing."

"_Thing_?"

"Yeah, did House tell _him_ he was moving there?" she clarified, instantly realizing that she was being stupidly too specific for Lucas not to notice.

And indeed, he did. He straightened up again and looked at her with a puzzled gaze.

"What's with you suddenly caring about that?" he asked, suspiciously.

"I'm not," she defended herself, maybe a bit too quickly. She blushed, in spite of herself, and lowered her gaze. "You're the one talking about it, I'm just… making conversation," she improvised, grabbing hold of herself again.

"I mentioned Wilson moving there earlier and you told me to forget about it. And now that I'm saying _House_ is moving in too, suddenly you're interested in knowing all the details?"

She sighed, perfectly knowing where this was going and wanting really hard to avoid it as much as she could. Even she didn't really know what rational explanation she would give him. Yes, that was true. She didn't care about Wilson moving in. But, hearing that House was going to live there was different. She needed to know more about it, about _him_. She just couldn't help it. It was… different.

"I don't understand, Lisa," Lucas told her, his voice getting angrier. "I thought you and I agreed that House doesn't deserve your attention-"

"I know," she said apologetically, "I'm just… concerned about him."

"Why? He made your life miserable! Think about that time when he screamed embarrassing things from that balcony, in front of all your staff-"

"He was not himself then, you know that," she said, finding herself somehow defending House's side.

Lucas puffed, annoyed.

"So what? You're excusing him?"

"It's just not that simple," she elaborated, as the awful memory of that time when House had lost it in front of her came back unwanted in her mind. "House is one of my best assets. As the Dean of Medicine, it's my duty to make sure he gets better."

"And, you sure there's nothing else?" Lucas dared her.

Cuddy bit her lips, uneasy. _Nothing else_? Was there really no other reason why she would worry about him? She briefly closed her eyes to chase the topic out of her mind. She couldn't let her thoughts wander there. She was with Lucas now. She'd made a choice. House was no good for her. No good…

She propped herself up on her elbows and smiled seductively at Lucas, even adding an extra little pout to it to sell it for him once and for all.

"There's nothing else," she purred, and slid her hand on his thigh, wandering her slender fingers up distractively. "You sure you want to watch the end of that movie?" she asked, mischievously.

Lucas made a face, faking to be contemplating her offer seriously, but then laughed and grabbed the remote control, turning the TV off.

"No!" he said, cheerful again.

He stood up swiftly and grabbed her hand, walking out of the living room with her, feeling, in a way, childishly victorious about the whole situation. After all, he was the one taking her to her bedroom, not House.

#####

A few days went by. House was avoiding Cuddy in an almost painfully conspicuous way. On the very rare occasions when she got to talk to him, either in his office or somewhere in the hospital's hallways – he never came to her office anymore – their conversations were always short, professional and lifeless. He was being distant, only filling her in on the necessary details required by the case he was dealing with at the time. There was no deliberate provocation from him anymore, no teasing, no banter, no nothing. He was being just like another doctor, doing his job and leaving her alone most of the times. She knew she was the one who'd asked him to do exactly that but, she couldn't help but miss it somehow, miss _him_. She had demanded him to stay away from her but as he docilely did, she found herself missing his attention.

One evening, she was standing in the clinic at the nurse counter and she spotted him in the lobby, just outside the glass door. He had his jacket on, his backpack hung on his shoulder and he was filling some papers, leaning against the entry desk. She gave a quick instruction to her assistant, handed her some files and promptly walked out of the clinic to join him. He didn't notice her, or perfectly pretended he didn't, as she approached him slowly and stood awkwardly next to him.

"Hey," she said.

He jolted his head to the side, startled by her presence then sent her a cold look, but didn't answer, quickly returning to his papers instead.

"How are you?" she asked tentatively.

"Fine." He grumbled, without looking at her.

She touched his arms to force him to acknowledge her and stop avoiding her gaze. He turned abruptly to face her and glanced at her hand before returning to her eyes, sending her a glare. She promptly removed her hand from his arm, the casual gesture she'd done a million times before suddenly feeling horribly unseemly because of the way he'd just looked at her, a mix of hurt and anger.

"I'm done here," he snapped, "if you need anything, just go ask my team."

She bit her lips and played with a strand of her hair to hide her discomfort.

"So, you're moving in with Wilson?" she asked.

He sighed heavily, visibly annoyed and set his lips, as he studied her face with a look of pain.

"You'll find another place," he said bitterly.

"That's not what I'm saying," she started cautiously, reaching for his arm again. "House, I… err, I just hope things go well, for you… I mean-"

He puffed and looked away. Something towards the main door caught his attention and he stiffened under her touch then promptly gathered the paper inside the file before leaning over the desk to place it inside a compartment with patients' folders underneath the counter. Cuddy turned her head to the side in the direction where House had just glanced a second before and she saw Lucas entering the hospital lobby. She moved her hand away from him and House grabbed his cane then strode away without a comment. Cuddy watched him walk towards the exit door and pass by Lucas hurriedly.

"Hey House!" Lucas greeted him cheerfully.

"Hi," House answered through gritted teeth, without looking at him.

He conspicuously speeded up his pace before Lucas would say anything else and hurried out of the hospital with an accentuated limp, due to the effort he was making to walk faster.

Lucas approached Cuddy, who was still looking in House's direction, without even being aware of it. He startled her when he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hi babe!" he said, pulling her to him.

She smiled, quickly shaking herself back to reality and let him peck her on the lips.

"Hi," she answered, trying to sound cheerful.

"What were you two talking about?" Lucas asked her, nonchalantly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders possessively and walking her back to her office proudly.

"Nothing. Just a patient," she lied.

"Go get your stuff, I'm taking you home," Lucas said, changing the subject. "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" Cuddy said, as new-found enthusiasm lit up her face with a smile.

"Yeah, come on!" he prompted.

#####

It had all happened so fast...

They were having dinner, a nice, perfectly quiet evening with no drama, just like she needed. Her mother had taken Rachel for the night, thanks to Lucas who had arranged everything so that they'd be just the two of them. He'd cooked for her. Nothing extraordinary but something elaborated enough to make it look like a special occasion. A nice surprise, indeed, just like he'd promised her. There were candles on the table and crystal glasses. They'd eaten, exchanging gossips and meaningless anecdotes about their days. Cuddy had drunk some wine, not much, but enough to unwind her. She was beginning to forget about the odd, mixed feelings she'd had earlier with House at the hospital. It was all good. Lucas was smiling, confidently, taking care of everything. That's exactly what she needed. Not to have anything to do. Just relax, for once, and forget about her daily problems.

Around dessert, just completely out of nowhere, Lucas had stood up and, walking to the light switch, he'd turned the lights off, plunging the room in the dark except for the few candles on the table. Taken off guard, Cuddy had giggled, amused by all that sudden ceremonial over what she thought was just another dinner.

And then, Lucas had put his hand inside his pocket and retrieved a small, square, velvety box out of it…

And now, she was standing outside the loft's doorstep, nervous, but weirdly excited, like she hadn't felt in a long time. She closed her eyes briefly to gather up some courage and then knocked on the door.

"Wow! Took you less time than I th-"

Wilson froze upon seeing her, and instantly fell silent.

"Excuse me?" Cuddy said, confused about Wilson had just said.

"Err, nothing, I thought it was House…" Wilson mumbled as an explanation. "Cuddy, just let me say this: if you're here about the loft, I'm sorry it happened but you should know House has nothing to do with it. I swear. I'm the one who bought it, not-"

"House isn't here?" she cut him short, sounding disappointed.

"No. He's not here," Wilson confirmed, his tone upset. "What do you want from him?"

"I need to talk to him."

"It's…" he quickly glanced at his watch, "almost ten. Why would you need to talk to him _now_?"

"That's none of your business," she dismissed with a resolute tone.

Wilson glared at her, in a way that meant she wouldn't get away with it that way.

"It's important," she amended, without giving further details.

"Have you tried his cell?"

"No, I need to talk to him in person."

"At ten in the evening?" Wilson exclaimed. "What has he done this time?"

"Nothing."

"Then, if he's done nothing wrong, why can't it wait until tomorrow? It's been a rough time for him lately, in case you haven't noticed…"

"I know," Cuddy said, with her head low.

"And seeing you doesn't exactly make him feel better," Wilson went on, his voice reproachful.

Cuddy felt piqued in her pride and she straightened up, challenging Wilson with a glare.

"He hasn't exactly made my life better either," she defended herself.

Wilson huffed, stunned by her nerves.

"You actually dare to compare _your_ life to what _he_'s going through?"

Cuddy bit her bottom lip and sent him a guilty look.

"Wilson, I _really_ need to talk to him."

"I'm not sure it'll do him any good," he replied, as if he were thinking out loud. "All you seem to cause him lately is more misery, each time you approach him. Cuddy, I'm sorry, but you really should cut him some slack, right now. Just go back to your boyfriend-"

Cuddy shook her head 'no' and looked down at her feet, suddenly looking like a lost, grounded child. Wilson couldn't miss that look. He frowned, intrigued.

"What do you mean 'no'?" he asked, cautiously.

Cuddy inhaled deeply and her lower lip started to tremble slightly. She tilted her head to the side and stared at the oncologist with sorry eyes. Wilson's jaw dropped in astonishment but he found himself unable to say a word.

"He's at his old apartment, packing stuff before he moves in here," he finally said after a beat.

Relief instantly spread on Cuddy's face.

"Thank you," she said before hastily turning on her heels and rushing away into the hallway.

"Hey, Cuddy!" Wilson called back. She stopped and turned around, reluctantly, as she obviously didn't want to waste any more time just being there. "House is my friend," he warned. "I don't want him to get hurt any more than he already is."

The two doctors stared at each other for a while longer and Cuddy imperceptibly nodded to acknowledge Wilson's concern.

"Are you _really_ sure of what you're doing?" Wilson asked, skeptically.

"No!" Cuddy exclaimed in return, and she disappeared from sight.

* * *

**A/N**

Next chapter will be up very soon. Maybe tomorrow... depends on how much you want it! ;P

Oh, and for those of you who read IYLM, I just wanted to say, I haven't abandonned that story. But, as I feel awfully guilty, in hindsight, for being that disappointing, posting with SO MUCH TIME in between my chapters, I've decided I would start to post again when I'll have written it all. The end isn't far away anyway, so it means it won't require hundreds of chapters to get there... just some more time, if you bear with me...

Thank you for reading, have a nice day! ~ maya


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much to every one of you who kindly left me a review, or sent me a PM to share their thoughts about that first chapter. It touched me a lot. You really are the best reward an author can wish for!_

_Thank you to those of you who already favorited this story, started following it, or put me on author's alert. I can't tell you how good it feels to be back, after such a long time, and see that you are still around, caring a little about my fictional wild imaginings. I may not know all of you, but you all feel so familiar, in a way. So thank you for being here! _

_Now, on to chapter 2! As promised, from then on, it'll be House/Cuddy all the way! :D_

* * *

**** REDEEM ME ****

**Chapter 2**

House was seated on the floor of his living room, his back against his leather couch, surrounded by all kinds of random things and a couple of open cardboard boxes. He wasn't getting rid of his apartment, so that was not like he had to clean everything up but there still was a lot to deal with. He needed to sort his stuff out by category before selecting what he'd need to bring with him once he'd move in with Wilson. He'd gathered so many things during the years while he'd lived there. It made him feel a little bit nostalgic.

For example, while fumbling through his medical reviews, he'd found some dusty, old issues of Playboy magazine, piled behind the books on the bottom shelf of his bookcase. And instead of carrying on with his tidying up process, his finding had completely detoured him from his goal as he was currently leafing through one of the reviews, with a childish look of awe on his face.

There was a sudden knock on his door and he cringed, hating to be disturbed during one of those few moments of complete carelessness he could still enjoy in his life. But Wilson had told him he would probably stopped by to give him a hand, so he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to make his friend do all the dirty work while he'd enjoy his boyish souvenirs that easily.

Just as the second knock, more insistent this time, was echoing in the room, he stood up, not without difficulty, as he'd left his cane on the floor beside his piano stool, when he'd played some blues earlier in the evening and had enjoyed a soothing glass of Bourbon. He limped to the door with a wide beam on his face, still holding an issue of Playboy in his hand.

He opened the door, a bit theatrically, and waved the review triumphantly in front of him.

"Hey! Look what I found in the…" he stopped in the middle of his sentence, startled by Cuddy's presence on his doorstep. The men's review was still in his hand and his hand still up in the air but, as if it were suddenly weighing a million tons, he let it fall back down along his thigh, clutching his fingers around the glossy cover of the magazine.

Cuddy bit her lips in embarrassment and looked down to hide her discomfort. But it lasted only half a second and she raised her head up again, with a new-found assertiveness and a defying look, waiting for him to say something first. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, studying her just for an extra few lingering seconds.

"My clinic duty is done. I've completed my hours this afternoon. My patient is diagnosed and now receiving his treatment," he recited conscientiously. "I don't think I owe you one more minute of my skilled time…"

She took a sharp breath and took him off guard by promptly and quite unexpectedly walking past him and stepping inside the apartment.

"I'm not here for work," she said, walking as far away from the door as she could, before he would be able to react.

House, indeed, stayed rooted to his spot and kept looking straight ahead at the now empty hallway, somewhat still dazed. He finally seemed to be jolted awake and turned around to face her. She had taken her coat off and had retreated towards his kitchen's entry, near the sideboard, and was staring at him, in an oddly expecting way.

He sighed at her look of confusion. He was tired and drained by all the games they'd been playing together all this time. He wasn't in the mood to do that anymore. She needed to understand that she couldn't play with him forever like she was. Trying to forget her was already a daily awaken nightmare and just the sight of her right now, in his living room, in his apartment, in the place where she had once been that so unique and irreplaceable woman for him, even just in his head, was only making it more difficult.

"I was leaving," he lied, trying to sound dismissive.

"No, you weren't," she answered without missing a beat, and she quickly scanned the room around her, immediately noticing every pile of books and reviews that were lying there, or had been hastily thrown inside the cardboard boxes. He was nowhere near the moment where he'd be done with this mess. "Wilson said you had to pack some of your stuff."

"Wilson?"

She lowered her gaze again.

"Yes," she mumbled. "I was at your place before."

House was still holding the handle of the open door in his hand and he leaned forwards to glance into the hallway. She saw him and tipped her chin up.

"I'm alone," she said, anticipating his next question.

"And your daughter?"

"With my mom."

"Isn't Lu…"

"He's gone."

"Oh, night shift for ice cream man?"

"I don't know."

"Of course! He doesn't tell you. He's right, it's safer. You don't want to get inv…"

"We broke up," she deadpanned.

House's heart skipped a beat and the sensation felt so violent and raw, he could have sworn it made his chest jump noticeably. He gulped, his throat feeling suddenly completely dry. To keep his cool and hide his stunned face, he turned around slowly and closed the door.

"Ohhh, I see..." he said, trying hard to sound as unimpressed as he could, his voice low and hoarse.

He walked back inside the apartment but chose to go towards the piano, opposite to her. It felt safer to him not to be too close, and besides, he'd suddenly remembered about that glass of bourbon that was still lying on the instrument black glossy surface, still half full. He approached the piano, limping heavily without his cane. Just then, out of nowhere, "Dancing Queen" started resonating into space. House squirmed awkwardly and hastily fished his cell phone out of the front pocket of his jeans.

"Can't talk right now," he grumbled into the receiver and slid the phone shut before placing it back into his pocket.

Cuddy registered the scene, without saying a word and they studied each other from across the room for another while before House leaned against the piano and off-handedly grabbed hold of his glass of Bourbon to drink.

"Can I have one?" she said as soon as she saw him take his first sip.

"What is it? You ran out of booze so you thought you'd come here and borrow one of my bottles? You know, I'm pretty sure you could've found some in a nearer neighborhood if you'd tried harder…"

She sighed loudly and it sounded like a sigh of annoyance. There it was: the tension. Again. Soon she would be upset, for an unknown reason, at least unknown to him, like it seemed to be the case most of the time lately. And she'd yell or throw a scornful comment but he wouldn't understand why. He had tried to understand but the fact was, there wasn't any rational explanation. So, at some point, he'd resigned himself to give up. But now, here, tonight, thoughts were running inside his head like a brimming flow. There were not many ways to get answers. He slowly put the glass down and, from across the room, looked her intensely in the eyes.

"Why exactly are you here, Cuddy?"

Her mouth opened and her lips remained slightly parted but no sound came out. After a long, suspended moment, she shivered and held his gaze.

"I thought about you... I mean me... I mean, what _I_ did to you..."

House arched his eyebrows, intrigued. The atmosphere was heavy and odd and he was starting to feel uncomfortable, barely daring to understand what he thought the reason for her suddenly visiting him might be. It sounded so improbable and even risible that he preferred to hold back his sarcastic comment at first. Cuddy stopped and allowed herself some time to breathe in deeply. She really looked like someone who needed to calm down. It was touching, but preoccupying at the same time. He peered at her even more intensely, starting to fear she might have some reckless reaction and not really knowing if it was going to be the kind he secretly expected from her.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," she finally said, looking uneasy.

A long silence ensued and he stared at her, puzzled.

"O-kay."

Not a sound was pervading the apartment except for his old antique ticking clock on the sideboard next to her. She took a few steps towards him, her pace slow but steady, her eyes locked with his the entire time. House watched her come close, and held his breath, but didn't say a word. When she finally stood, just in front of him, she put out her hand and gestured towards the glass on the piano.

"You mind?"

He docilely handed the glass to her and their fingers briefly touched when she grabbed it. She tilted her head back, brought the glass to her mouth, and emptied it in one large gulp, wincing as the strong smoky and earthy flavor of the alcohol burnt her throat. Straightening up, she slammed the glass back atop the piano and stared at him defiantly.

"Wow, you can knock it back!" he said teasingly.

"Not more than you do," she replied, tit for tat.

"Maybe, but I'm much bigger than you are."

"I'm fine. It's not my first time drinking alcohol, you know."

"Didn't say it was, but something tells me that's not the first glass you had tonight."

"And so what? Are you going to lecture me about the bad effects of alcohol? I'm a big girl."

"You're going to get drunk," he said, matter-of-factly and then stopped just a few seconds to study her and think. "Wait, is that the plan? You wanna get wasted and forget about your miserable, screwed-up life?"

"I told you, I'm fine," she repeated, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Then what's the plan?" he asked.

She didn't answer but wiggled her shoulders, in a sort of shy but enticing way, and took another step in his direction. House stared at her, with his eyes wide, but remained perfectly still, while inside of him, he could feel the rhythm of his heartbeats dangerously accelerate.

"What's this all about?" he questioned her one last time, feigning not to understand and hoping it would halt her in some way, and allow him some time to regain control over the situation.

She came close enough to touch his body with hers, and stopped. For a fleeting instant, she looked him right in the eyes, challengingly, and then grabbed hold of his arm to steady her while she rose on her tiptoes and stretched her neck to reach for his face. All the air got blocked inside his lungs and he stared back at her, petrified, as her lips came in contact with his mouth. At the burning sensation, House's eyes squeezed shut, almost in spite of him, and Cuddy leisurely brushed the pulp of his lips with hers, tentatively, barely demanding, just relishing the feeling and awaiting a reaction from him.

House didn't want to react, but the battle was already lost before it had even started. His lips parted slowly, the exact signal she was expecting, and she slid her tongue inside his mouth, tasting him. He welcomed it with surprise at first, soon mingled with bliss, and gave up the fight, pushing his tongue forwards to meet hers and enjoying the slightly alcoholic sweetness of her flavor on his taste buds. It felt as if, suddenly, he'd become aware of every artery, vein and vessel inside his body, pumping blood, and injecting life into him again. His hand, dissociated from his brain, yet intensely connected with his brain, slowly slid around her waist and to the small of her back and he pulled her against him. His other hand climbed up her back and he caressed her hair at the base of her nape, delicately. The kiss maybe lasted just a few seconds, even though it felt longer but, at some point, the rational part of his mind shook him back to reality and, as appealing as the idea of surrender was in that moment, he seized Cuddy by the shoulders and found the strength to push her back and break away from their kiss.

She stared at him, taken aback, her lips still parted and glistening from the kiss they'd just shared and he looked back at her, with a resoluteness she refused to comprehend. House was breathless too, that she could see and, to her, he looked just confused, in a touching way, so she shot him a shy smile and leaned forwards to him again, wanting to recreate their previous connection. But House kept her at arm's length, decidedly.

"No thanks," he said, warning her with a somber gaze, "I don't want leftovers."

Cuddy puffed, stunned.

"Right," she however dared to contradict him with every last remnant of pride she could muster. "Like you can pretend you don't want me!"

She held her chin up and almost unconsciously stuck her chest out, her round breasts merging from her cleavage. God! She was so perfectly exquisite. His male instincts were shouting at him to tug her into his arms again and devour her, right now, and all night long, until they would pass out, drown in lust. But no! He couldn't yield now. Not yet. Not before he was sure that it wasn't going to end like it had ended twenty years ago. Not twice. This time, if he allowed her in his territory, if he finally gave up and welcomed her inside his world, it had to be for real. It had to lead somewhere.

"No need to wiggle the girls teasingly in front of my face," he snapped. "I'm not one of those donors you can entice to extort them a big check. I'm not paying for the show. You don't give me enough money anyway to make it worth wasting any of it on this!"

Cuddy gulped and stomached his barb bravely. She closed her eyes briefly and sighed. House had taken a step away from her and he was watching her, scrutinizing her reaction, testing her.

"You know Cuddy, it may not seem obvious to you, but I'm not a disposable male hooker you can claim whenever you think you're in the mood."

Cuddy stood mouth agape and stared at him, awestruck.

"But if you need some phone numbers," he continued, oblivious to her reaction, "I can fix that for you. I know a girl, several girls actually, who surely know a guy that'd be happy to take care of your hormonal problem. I hope you're carrying some cash though coz…"

**SLAP! **

Her hand had waved in the air and violently hit his cheek before he could even see it coming. He rested the palm of his hand on the side of his face, and she covered her mouth with her hand, instantly taking a step back, shocked by her own reaction. He smiled bitterly and rubbed his jaw, while she started shivering.

"So now you're going physical? That's your next plan?" he said sourly. "Nice! ... I should have remembered you can be a real bitch sometimes."

Her lips started to tremble and tears welled up in her eyes. She stared at him, with immense hurt, before turning around. He didn't know if she wanted to leave but he didn't let her go anywhere. He grabbed her by the arm and stopped her before she could step away from him.

"You won't get anything from me like that, Cuddy," he said, leaning down to her face and staring her right in the eyes. "If you're here for something, just say it."

* * *

**A/N**

I hope you still like this story. I'm gonna have a busy day tomorrow so I don't know if I'll have time to post but, if I can't I promise it'll be up on Friday!

Meanwhile, I wanna hear from youuuuuuu and you, and you, and YOU! D

Have a nice day, thank you for reading! ~ maya


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you again, so very much, to everyone who reviewed the previous installment or left me a PM to share their thoughts! It's quite amazing to read your comments! _

_So here's Chapter 3 now where, I hope, you'll have all the answers you crave._

_A precision before (and in reply to MonFogel's concern, and Allthingsdecent's question from her ch1's review too): I just wanted to say once again that, as I said in my A/N in chapter 1, I started to write this story in December 2009 (after episode 6.10 "Wilson") and the whole idea of what, where and __**how**__ this story would unfold was already precisely defined in my head. Everything I "imagined" then as a pretext to bring House and Cuddy together was in no way altered, or conveniently transformed afterwards, especially NOT in lights of "Help Me", even though that's also – in a way – why I lost my excitement about this story, in hindsight, because of the similarities I saw with some of the key plots I'd thought of. Naturally, I'm not pretending that what I'm describing here is what the show did, which would be an immensely stupid and vain thing to do, especially since I'm saying I had the idea 6 months before season 6 finale. But truth is, yes, something (quite big, for me at least) is a game-changing here and it may ring familiar to you… However, at the same time, and even if I tried as much as I could, __**then**__, to be faithful to the characters as they were during S6 (as infuriating as their screw-ups might have been) "my" Cuddy was, already even then, NOT DS' Cuddy…. You'll see why, and I hope you'll enjoy how this unfolds._

_While I'm aware that, somehow, part of this chapter may sound OOC to some of you, or a bit too extreme, or pushy, I'm still happy with some of the dialogs I wrote in it and it may even be my fav chapter so far… So I really hope it'll flow ok for you too._

_Let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!_

* * *

**** REDEEM ME ****

**Chapter 3**

She'd somehow managed to prevent the tears from falling and they'd dried on the rim of her translucent eyes. She held his gaze, pretending not to understand what he was implying.

"I have nothing to say," she denied forcefully.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing," she repeated stubbornly.

"That's not the impression you just gave me a minute ago."

"You perfectly know what it meant," she answered, refusing to put a name on it.

"I need to hear it from you," he provoked.

She clenched her jaws, feeling trapped. He still had his hand around her arm and she stared persistently at his fingers until it made him release his grab. She stepped back a little and studied him. She was contemplating her options, obviously, as she was desperately trying to decipher if it was a game for him or if there was a remote possibility that he could be serious. She saw the intensity in his eyes and she decided to go for it.

"I want you," she suddenly said, in a voice that sounded unsure enough to prove that she was not joking.

He waited, his head tilted to the side, trying to control the violent flow of raw emotions that had just invaded his body at the sound of those three words. But no, that's not what he wanted. He needed more. He needed the grand slam.

"That's not enough," he answered. "You want me. Fine. Suppose I give you what you want, and then what?"

"What what?"

"What happens next?"

She flashed him a panic look, and he smirked victoriously.

"Ahh, yes! Here we are, exactly! What do you want from me, Cuddy? What did you come here for? A good lay? With Gregory House, the cripple? You had me when I was steady on my legs and now you wanna know if I can still fuck you despite the muscle weakness? You're curious about how I do _that_?"

"Stop it!" she shouted, looking horrified.

"Stop what?"

"That! You, being purposely hurtful, to me and to you."

"I'm certainly much better used to dealing with that feeling than you are…"

"You don't know how I feel…"

"Then, tell me how you _feel_, Cuddy."

She looked down briefly, looking a bit mortified but, straightened her shoulders and planted her eyes in his, challengingly. "I already told you: I want you."

"Wrong answer."

"Whaa? Are you turning down my offer?"

"_Offer_? Is that how you're calling it? Wow, this sounds even more terribly wrong than I thought."

"You're trying to pretend you don't want to have sex _with me_?"

"Oh no, I do! I do wanna have sex with you. Actually, I do wanna have sex, _in general_. Not just with you. See? I can have plenty of sex if I want to. Maybe not with you, but I can have as much sex as I need, whenever I need it. It may cost me a bit more than if it were with you… Although, in all fairness, I'm not even quite sure about that, considering how much I had to pay for therapy since I've been out of Mayfield-"

"You're an ass."

"And yet, here you are. Still here. Still waiting. What are you waiting for, Cuddy? Tell me."

"You know what? Just forget it. I should have never come here in the first place. I don't even know why I thought-"

"You didn't come here just to get laid, or did you?" House snarled angrily, provoking her.

"And what if?" she provoked back. "Why would you need a reason?"

He smirked, disgusted, and shook his head, ogling her down almost contemptuously.

"That's how you see me, don't you?" he spat. "I'm just _that_ guy for you, fucked-up, miserable, and easy to manipulate. You're having fun messing with me, aren't you?"

"Fun?" she exclaimed resentfully. "What fun?"

"Listen, I get it. You felt guilty. You're sorry. You wanted to apologize and you did. Great! Apologies accepted. It's all good, I swear."

"No, it's not. You can act all cool if you want but, this isn't ok. Don't lie to me, House. I know you want me too."

"No, I don't. Maybe I once lived under the illusion that I did, but the fact is, what I liked in you is exactly what being in a relationship with that boy toy took away from you: mischief, boldness, fiery. You had it in you, and now it's gone. So I'm sorry, but I'm not interested anymore."

"I don't believe you."

"Yet, that's the truth! I'm not interested in your _offer_."

"You kissed back. I felt it. You can't lie to me about that."

"Well, yeah, I did. What do you think? I'm not made of stone, Cuddy. Doesn't mean I want you that way, now."

"Bullshit. I know you have feelings for me."

"Pff!" he puffed. "You're such a narcissistic, pretentious little bitch. What makes you think I still do?"

"Ha! See? You said '_still_ do.' So you _have_ feelings for me."

House clenched his jaws, visibly annoyed, and looked away from her.

"Just look me in the eyes and tell me that's not true," she insisted.

"Then what?" he barked. "What difference does that make? Cuddy, I had a fucking mental BREAKDOWN because of you! You think you can just show up and play with me like that? You think I'm gonna _let_ you? Newsflash: I won't. Last thing I need is you coming here with your guilt-triggered pity-"

"Is that what you think it is? _Pity_?" she replied, huffing. "You think that's why I came here?"

"WHY did you come here, Cuddy? That's what I'm trying to figure out. You have a boyfriend-"

"I told you we broke up."

"Then go see him! Apologize for whatever mistake you made, or stupid thing you said that you didn't mean. I'm sure he'll take you back in a sec."

Her eyes widened and, quite unexpectedly, she burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"You think Lucas is the one who broke up with me?"

"I don't know. It doesn't sound like something he would do but why would you be here otherwise?"

"I'm the one who ended it. Me, not him."

"Why?"

Cuddy took a deep breath and held her chin up, defiantly.

"Because… He proposed," she said, studying his reaction.

"And what? The ring wasn't big enough?" he scoffed, but it was mostly to hide the fact that he had just felt as if someone had violently punched him in the stomach.

"Fuck you, House."

"Seriously, why would you do that? That's the one thing you've always craved, Cuddy: The baby, the lovely house with a nice lawn on the front, a nice, docile husband at your beck and call. Why would you-"

"I know. Sounds insane, doesn't it?"

"Sounds fucked up, mostly. And so not like you."

"What do you know about what _is_ me?"

"Apparently, I don't. Which brings us back to square one, Cuddy. Lucas proposed, you broke up, and then you came here. _Why_?"

"You know why."

"No, I don't. I really don't."

"Because… it's you."

House's mouth dropped open in astonishment upon hearing how definite her confession had just sounded. He still refused to believe it or even allow himself to hope it was true, but when Cuddy registered his stunned surprise, she knew she had finally found a crack in his wall.

"Yes. It's _you_ I want, House. I can't shake you out of my head. I just can't."

"Try harder."

"I know you feel the same," she continued, ignoring his deflection. "Lucas told me what you said to him, when you crashed at his place, drunk. You told him you _loved me_."

"You just said it, I was _drunk_."

"He said you sounded sincere."

"I'm just that good at pretending."

"He was furious, by the way, in case you need to know."

"Why would I need to know _that_?"

"Because…" she hesitated just a second and confessed, "I couldn't hide it from him that I cared about what you said-"

"Why do you say that?

"Because… it'll make you feel better?" she offered, smiling shyly.

"Well, it doesn't!" he lashed out.

She slightly jumped at his sudden change of tone and covered her face with both her hands, shaking her head left and right in exasperation. God, he was so infuriating! But she'd felt it in the way he'd returned her kiss before. It was there. Just as it was there, every time he looked at her, every time he talked to her, or in the way he provoked her, the way he pretended he didn't care but couldn't help looking for every sort of pretext to be with her… And she _knew_. There were signs that weren't lying. All those years, she couldn't have misread all those signs, could she?

"Why do you need to fight this so hard?"

"Because…" he took a deep breath, and sighed resignedly. "You and me? It's a mistake. Sounds all exciting at first, but it's not. It's toxic. Look where it got me the last time. And geez, it wasn't even real!"

"You know what your problem is, House? You're scared."

"Tss, I'm not. Why would I be? Well… unless you've grown fangs in your vagina. Is that it? Should I be afraid for my manhood, Cuddy? Are you here to emasculate me, literally this time, after you've repeatedly and metaphorically done it this whole time?"

She closed her eyes and a sudden and irrational feeling of anger pervaded her. She knew she was right, but it was helpless. As long as he'd refuse to let his guard down, just a little, and be honest with her, about how he _truly_ felt, she painfully realized it wouldn't get them anywhere. She was tired of being the one who had to push him all the time. What about her? What about how _she_ was feeling? If he couldn't even _see_ the reasons why she was here, why she'd felt the urge to run to him, then fuck him! That was his loss, she thought, furious and hurt in her pride. She was not going to beg.

"Fine. You win. I'm leaving," she said, with a hint of sadness in her voice. "But, God help me, I swear, once I walk out of here, it's _over_. Just one flirting remark at work, or uncalled-for comment and you're fired. If you ever try to mess with my life again, you're fired. If you screw up just one medical procedure-"

"I think I get it," he said, sarcastically.

"Good."

She waited a little longer, hoping he'd react or say something, but he didn't utter a single word and just watched her, with his lips stubbornly set in silence. A tear rolled down her cheek, burning her skin and she swiftly wiped it away with the back of her hand.

"I never played, House," she still felt the need to add. "You only think I did because you too played that game. But, truth is, there is no game. You say you're not made of stone, well, newsflash for you: neither am I!"

With that, she turned on her heels and strode to the door.

"CUDDY!"

His shout had just sounded like a desperate plea. She stopped at the threshold, her hand on the doorknob.

"Wait. Don't go."

She sighed, a mix of relief and exasperation, and slowly turned around to face him again. He was standing there, a few feet away from her, looking down, uncomfortable.

"You're right. I'm scared," he confessed, his voice barely audible.

She closed her eyes, briefly, and walked towards him, entering the apartment again. When she stood right in front of him, she lifted her face up to search for his gaze.

"I'm scared, too," she admitted.

"I'm not ready for that," he said, self-consciously.

She bit her bottom lip and intensified her stare, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I mean, I know that I… surely want that… _you_… but…," he stuttered, "all this time, you said… I mean-"

"I'm sorry," she murmured because it really was the only thing she was capable of saying in that moment.

He slowly raised his hand and brushed the side of her cheek with the tip of his fingers, tentatively, almost shyly. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"What if you're wrong?" he whispered.

Her eyes shot open and she looked up at him in bafflement.

"You say you want me but, what if we… have sex and then, in a few hours, or tomorrow morning, you decide that it was a mistake?"

"This is not a mistake," she answered right away, her voice strong.

"I don't want to end like another whim you'll regret."

"You're not a whim," she said, reassuringly. "Oh House, believe me, you're _not_ a whim!"

"Did you also say that to Lucas?" he asked, a bit resentfully.

"It's different. Lucas was a mistake."

"A mistake that bought you an engagement ring. Can't say I particularly like the guy, but I'm sure you'd given him some hints that said it was the smart thing to do."

"It would have never worked anyway. Somehow, I'm sure he knew it was over even before I told him it was. Buying that ring was just a stupid way to avoid facing it."

"But you, Cuddy, you wanted that ring?"

"I don't know. Maybe the idea of a ring, yes. But, not with him, no. Lucas wasn't the one. He never was."

"Took you long enough to realize that!" he said bitterly.

"But I did, eventually."

"Yeah. How's that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I don't know. I just know that as soon as I broke up with him, I felt the urge to be with you."

"And you came. But then you claimed sex," he said, disapprovingly.

"No. I claimed _you_. But you wouldn't let me."

"Because… I can't risk…" He stopped, mid-sentence and stared at her, almost right through her soul, with a piercing gaze. "Cuddy, if this is just a game for you-"

"No game."

"You don't even know what you're getting yourself into."

"I just want to try. I _need_ to try."

"And what happens when you find out I'm not what you want?"

"Not gonna happen," she said, shaking her head.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I can feel it. And I'm sure of it. I'm _sure_."

He puffed and looked at her with sorry eyes. "Nobody's ever sure," he said, sadly. "Besides, you told me the exact opposite, with as much certainty, a few days ago only. You said you wanted me out of your life."

"I lied."

She cupped the side of his face with her slender hand, her tender gesture silencing him momentarily as he closed his eyes and imperceptibly leaned in to her caress.

"Every one of my brain cell is screaming at me to run away right now-"

"It's not too late for that," he said, part of him still afraid that this unexpected turn of fate was just a twisted trick his mind was playing on him.

"But I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"Ok," he yielded. Her hand on his face felt so soft, so tender, and he wanted to believe, so much.

"I love you, House," she whispered, still stroking his stubble gently. "You're an asshole and a selfish bastard and, you make me mad most of the times, but I love _you_."

His eyes widened and he looked at her, completely stunned. He couldn't remember when someone had last said those three words to him and really meant them. But the best part was that _she_ was the one saying them, when he'd hoped, fantasized, and dreamed about her saying those words, how she would sound, or how she would look like while saying them so many times. So many painful times spent hoping… And she'd just sound so sincere. It blew his mind away.

He shyly came closer to her, almost clumsily and dared to put his hand on her hip, barely pulling, just enveloping her curvaceous femininity with his long fingers.

"You know… he was there, Lucas, he was standing in front of me and… when he got down on his knee I felt… sick to my stomach."

"Quite the romantic reaction," House said, with a bit of sarcasm in his voice, but there was that ever so slight hint of a smile on his lips.

"You know, I wasn't actually sick for real," she answered and gave him his smile back.

"But this? This is real, right?"

She put a hand on his shoulder and stretched her neck to kiss him. He leaned down to her and let her nibble at his bottom lip, tantalizingly.

"I don't know. Does that feel real enough for you?" she teased.

He recognized the banter in her tone, and smiled back, mischievously.

"Uhm, I'm not sure… Can you do that again?"

* * *

**A/N**

_So there! See? There was NO WAY I'd have let Cuddy marry that douchebag, or even accept his proposal. Yet, like I said, there was a proposal. Funny thing, eh when I think the idea came to me after "Wilson"?… So well, I hope you liked the pace I chose here, deliberately, to go from provoking, almost mean deflection to some more honest admissions of genuine feelings, until it reached a sincere confession of love. What I wanted was both House and Cuddy to refuse to be the first one to cave, while desperately expecting the other to confess first. Maybe Cuddy downright saying she wants House, implying she wants sex is shocking but in my vision of it, it was a deliberate provocation on her part to force House to put some of his card down on the table too and see if she was right to make that move…_

_Well, anyway… Next chapter, naughty you, is quite obviously going to be pretty carnal, as you might have guessed. It'll spell S. E. X, child… which represents SEX! (as Muddy would say…) But, yeah I know, I'm very sorry, tomorrow I leave for a two-week holiday (don't panic I'll have internet. Duh) and that means I won't post until Saturday evening, maybe Sunday. So please, be patient. I'll make it worth your while. At least I promise I'll try my best…_

_Have a nice day, be happy and enjoy life! ~ maya_


	4. Chapter 4

_Ok, so here we go: Chapter 4, LAST chapter of this story!_

_Is that sex? Yes, undeniably…_

_Is that more than just that? Well, I hope it is, and above all, that I managed to convey it was in the right way…_

_I hope you'll enjoy reading it!_

_And thank you, THANK YOU, to everyone who has reviewed this story or added it in their favorites. I feel much honored to have you as readers…_

* * *

**** REDEEM ME ****

**Chapter 4**

_"Uhm, I'm not sure… Can you do that again?"_

She rose on her tiptoes and their lips came in contact again. He closed his eyes, a perfect feeling of warmth pervading him and they kissed, languorously, and almost hesitantly, while their tongues explored, and slowly tasted each other's tang. Cuddy moaned through House's lips and wound her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her waist. The pace of their kisses became more demanding and passionate and he tightened his embrace, pressing her against him, while she combed his hair with her fingers, and scratched his skull. Their breathing sped up, and there, irresistibly, he felt it, building up everywhere in his body. It felt as if each one of his cells were a microscopic light bulb coming to life within the sensation of him finally holding her, having her, possessing her. It was raw and violent and already more powerful than anything he'd have expected, even in his wildest fantasies. That woman was a dangerous bewitching creature and with one kiss, she had captured him under her spell. Gently, already missing the touch of her tongue on his tongue, House broke away from their kiss and rubbed his nose against hers, panting against her bottom lip.

"You sure you really want this?" he couldn't help but ask her one last time.

He knew that, if it'd go any further, even for just one more kiss, he would never be able to turn back, and the last thing he wanted in that moment was to hope beyond reason for something that wouldn't happen. It felt stupid to ask at this point but, somehow, the stakes were so high, he just had to.

Cuddy cupped his cheeks inside her hands, and tilted his face down, as she planted her yearning gaze on his.

"Shut up, House," she commanded. "Just make love to me, now."

There was a sort of urgency in her voice that was impossible not to notice. It instantly triggered a chemical reaction inside him, a mix of electric impulses and tickling shivers running everywhere on the surface of his skin.

He smiled and took her hand in his and they hurried to his room stumbling their way through the pile of random items lying everywhere on the floor along the way. There, he led her to the side of his bed and took one step back to study her perfect petite frame standing expectantly in front of him, as he was trying to decide what his next move should be. He looked her up and down, drinking her in reverently, and then gently pressed on her shoulders, motioning her to sit down on the edge of the mattress. He kneeled down at her feet and took one of her shoes inside his hands, slowly taking it off. She was barefoot and he noticed the dark nail polish that adorned her lovely, gracious toes. A hidden proof of that little grain of careless madness he loved so much about her. He caressed her foot, leisurely stroking its sole and enveloping her heel in the palm of his hands. She threw her head back and he let go of her foot to take care of her other shoe. Cuddy straightened up and started fumbling impatiently with the buttons of her jeans.

"No," he said with a definite tone, seizing her hands and pushing them away. "I've got this."

He didn't need to say it but, she instantly knew what he meant. It was there, unmistakable, in the intensity of his burning, almost imploring gaze: He'd waited far too long for that moment to finally happen to let anyone else take care of it.

"Ok," she answered, smiling softly.

House got up and held out his hand for her. She stood up as well and, at a snail's pace, savoring every second of it, he slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Deep, lustful breathes were making her chest rise up and down, as his dexterous fingers brushed the silkiness of her skin just between her breasts. When the last button was undone, House delicately seized the fabric, just below the collar and slid the shirt off of her shoulders and down the length of her arms. She wiggled a little to let the sleeves slide past her wrists and the flimsy fabric fell down the floor with a whoosh sound. She was wearing a dark purple lacy, underwire bra that cupped her plump breasts just perfectly, and was pushing them up in the sexiest way there was. House gasped at the sight of her, now standing almost bare-chested in front of him, and reveled in the proof of her arousal when he saw the little waves of goose bumps coursing along her skin. Cuddy let him stare at her, silently standing and, in a way, totally offered to him, awaiting his reaction; expecting it.

House looked her in the eyes, a bit unsure, as if to ask for permission. She nodded, imperceptibly, her nerves endings practically on fire, already craving his touch, like the desert craves the rain. With the utmost delicacy, as if he was manipulating crystal, he tentatively ran his thumb from the base of her neck down along her sternum, and stopped where the bra cups were joined at the center of chest by an adorable satin bow. Cuddy sucked in a sharp breath and tilted her head back. He took a step closer and kissed her neck, down her windpipe while his hands, already the masters of her body, skillfully slid around her shoulders to her back and unhooked her bra. He stepped back and helped her get rid of the sophisticated piece of underwear, letting it fall on the floor at her feet.

Now exposed to his sight, nude from the waist up, Cuddy blushed, all of a sudden feeling unusually shy. She came close to him and when she buried her face into his chest, hunching her shoulders a bit, as if to disappear into him, it completely melted his heart. He caressed her back, slowly, letting the incredibly rewarding sensation of finally feeling her skin fill him with bliss. She seized the hem of his tee-shirt and clumsily struggled to take it off. He gently pushed her hands away and took care of it himself. Now he was bare-chested in front of her too and it seemed to re-boost her feminine confidence. She rubbed herself against him, in a deliberately tantalizing way, possessively roaming his biceps and the round shape of his shoulders with the palms of her hands and it upped the lust between them a notch. Her next move - which sexily screamed 'in charge' - brought her fingers to the waist of his jeans and opening the first two buttons, hooking her thumbs into the loops next and pulling down. House froze, petrified, feeling a sudden unwanted self-consciousness invade him. She felt it and looked up, surprised, but with a mischievous smile that instantly reassured him. House kicked his sneakers off and Cuddy finished unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down along the upper part of his thighs. Instinctively, and almost in spite of him, he couldn't help but take the lead again as soon as he felt the thick cotton fabric brush his scar. Cuddy understood his implicit restraint and let him take his pants off himself.

Standing in front of her in his boxer shorts only, the proof of his desire for her became more conspicuous than ever. Cuddy sighed lasciviously and he gently pushed her backwards on the mattress, inviting her to lie down. He bent over and took her pants off. She squirmed with delightful impatience to speed up the process and soon she was lying down beneath him, only wearing her panties. Before House finally allowed himself to lie down as well, to reap the fruits of twenty years of unconditional desire for her, he took a moment to admire the incredible view, worshipping her every curve, and experiencing what felt quite similar to the first dizzying effects of a drug high, only a thousand times better.

He finally leaned down and lay above her, with absolute precaution, heedful not to crush her and she welcomed his strapping frame inside her arms. He wanted to touch every particle of her, run his hands along every centimeter of her skin, cradle each one of her curves inside the palm of his hands, and feel her heat burn his fingers. Lying on top of her, propped on one of his elbows, and with a little help from her, he removed her panties, his deft hands knowing exactly the right gestures, and doing just the perfectly necessary moves to get her entirely naked beneath him. She had bent one of her legs at the knee and when the tiny piece of purple satin slid past her foot and House let it fall there, carelessly, he immediately refocused his attention on her, fondling the length of her leg up, feeling the smoothness of her calf, the firmness of her thigh muscle, the silkiness of the side of her hip. He buried his face into her neck, as he continued his journey up, blindly exploring the hills and valleys of her body. His eyes squeezed shut as adrenaline shot through his veins when he found her breast and it caused her hips to jolt up and grind against his manhood.

Unimaginable, extraordinary, amazing, incredible, mind-blowing, infinite. That's what the sensation of her body in his hands, just for him, with him, made him feel. Cuddy hooked the waistband of his boxers with her fingers and pulled them down and, in an instant he was lying, naked too, above her. Their mouths joined in a kiss, nibbling greedily at the pulp of each other's lips and an irrepressible sexual fervor started consuming them both. He lifted himself on his forearms and slid down between her legs until his face came at her chest's level. She arched up and her breasts, her perfect, round breasts taunted his mouth. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her breast, and as soon as he did, he instantly craved more of that heavenly, delicious sensation and took her erect nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. She dug her nails in his upper back and he straightened up, freeing himself from her and looked at her, in awe, inwardly marveling at her beauty. She was so alive, and so intoxicating under his caresses… He was feeling dizzy, and deliciously numbed by the powerful waves of desire she was eliciting in him. He peered at her a little while longer, imprinting every one of her curves in his mind. Her taut belly was undulating wondrously slowly and he placed one palm on it, almost covering it all with his large hand. It burnt his skin as he traced a long, winding line along her abdomen, stroking her from her hipbone to her breast again, amazed by how firm it felt under his touch and how it just perfectly filled his palm when he cradled it inside his hand. She groaned impatiently above him and compellingly grabbed his biceps to pull him upward towards her face again. He complied docilely and returned his attention to her lips. She kissed back, greedily, and on both sides of his hips he felt the smooth skin of her inner thighs rub yearningly against him. She was calling him, with the oldest and most universal body language that existed, and all he wanted to do in that moment was to give her exactly what she wanted.

With one skilled round sway of his hips, House positioned himself between her wet folds and finally claimed what was now his with a languorous, slow thrust. She already knew for sure that House the lover was undeniably going to be more apt than any of the men she'd ever known but within the unhurried shyness of that movement solely, he laid every one of his overwhelmed feelings bare for her. The extreme tenderness with which he delicately rocked his hips and pushed himself inside of her to penetrate her core, until his shaft hit that spot deep inside her, was what touched her the most. Her eyes widened in wonderment and her mouth fell agape at the deliciously stretching sensation, while she took the sides of his face in her hands, sliding her thumbs behind his ears and planting her eyes on his. When he felt he was buried deep inside of her, he moaned above her face and stared back at her with an intensity she'd never seen before in his gaze. He kissed her face, everywhere, on her temple, her eyelids, and her nose before returning to her lips to devour her tongue again.

Leisurely, deliberately settling on a slow pace, he began to rock his hips, back and forth, and each time his shaft was sliding back inside her tight, wet warmth again, the wave that was growing inside him became bigger, larger, and more unavoidable than the previous time. It didn't feel just amazingly good. It felt indescribably good; something way beyond words or any rational attempts at depicting the feeling.

Once, a long time ago, he'd had her and that one-time experience had scarred him for life. Nothing and no one after her ever felt quite as unique as she had. He'd tried to recreate the sensation, sometimes closing his eyes, to imagine it was her he was making love to, while he held other bodies inside his arms but it never felt the same. There was something about the way she moved, the way her sweat smelled, the way she arched the small of her back, the way she matched his rhythm, a perfect synchronicity of one desire meeting another desire and that was simply irreplaceable. Re-living that experience, after so many years, after having missed her, so many times, up to a point where it'd sometimes hurt him more than the wound in his thigh itself, hit him as powerfully as the force of an earthquake devastating everything behind it. He dove at her neck and bit the round shape of her shoulder, unable to contain the urge that was taking hold of his body to possess her, imprint her under his skin, and become one with her. It was raw, almost like the primal reaction of an animal obeying the laws of nature, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as a single tear, a sign of elation mixed with gratitude, rolled down his cheek.

Cuddy felt it burn her skin and she took his face inside her hands to bring it at her level. They stared at each other in silence, both overcome by too many emotions they'd tried to hold back for so long, and she smiled with utmost tenderness before stretching her neck to reach for his face and kissing his temple softly. She rubbed her cheek against his stubble and held him tighter as she whispered his name in his ear, the sound echoing in his head like a caress to his soul. His hips kept dancing and rocking, nestled between her hips and the feeling kept growing and growing bigger. Her inner thighs were pressing more demandingly against his sides now and she suddenly wound her legs around his waist, like a creeper winds round a trunk, her body arching up and undulating under him. He gasped, awestruck by the unreserved confidence with which she was leading their dance, and he sped up the rhythm, instantly noticing every change in the way she breathed, louder, the way she bucked her hips, faster, or the way her nails were no longer just stroking him but digging into his flesh, undeniably leaving marks that he knew he would cherish for as long as they'd remain on his skin, as an incredible proof of her intense desire for him.

He propped himself up on his palms, his large shoulders hovering over her petite frame and he looked down at their joined bodies, enthralled by the perfect symbiosis of their movements, the shock waves that were shaking their stomachs and the incredible energy that was emanating from it all. There, inside her arms, he was coming to life again. He knew his thigh would certainly ache afterward but, in that instant, he wasn't feeling any pain. Just the addictive, magical sensation of pleasure, irrepressibly building up, right before the moment when he knew it was going to explode inside them and overrun them both. Cuddy gasped loudly and threw her head back into the pillow, a squeak escaping from her lips, and he fell back on his elbows to take her face inside his hands. He wanted to pick out the sound of her coming on his lips and feel them vibrate within that sound. She closed her eyes and that unique, unmistakable vibe of orgasm took hold of her, while a raspy moan, coming from the depth of her throat started echoing into space. He leaned down and kissed her, just then, covering her mouth with his and he absorbed her pleasure through his lips. She clutched his shoulders and turned her face to the side to gasp for air, wriggling beneath him uncontrollably. He kept moving inside her a few more times, each one of his last shoves feeling like him surrendering to a higher force that he wasn't even trying to tame or fight. He didn't want to. He welcomed his own orgasm with a feeling of blissful completion, and collapsed on top of her, panting.

After a few seconds, careful not to squash her under his weight, House slowly slid out of her and rolled to his side, facing her. Cuddy did the same and they stared at each other, breathless, both curled up in a ball, their knees and faces touching. They remained silent for long minutes, simply looking each other in the eyes, words feeling completely superfluous between them in that moment. After a while though, he saw her shiver so he lifted her gently and they both slid under the warmth of his linen sheets, instantly finding their position again, face to face, and cuddled up against each other. House raised his hand slowly and caressed her hair. She sighed voluptuously and smiled.

"That was-" she started to say, but he covered her lips with his index finger.

"Shh," he told her, smiling too, "you're gonna break the spell."

She chuckled and looked at him, amused.

"There is no spell."

"I don't want to find out, anyway," he confessed. "Not now."

She enveloped him with a fond gaze and stroked his stubble tenderly. He covered her hand with his and slid it along the side of his face to his mouth, kissing the inside of her palm with the softest brush of his lips.

"I think I love you." He whispered against the hollow of her wrist, the sound of his confession muffled by her skin.

She arched her eyebrows, her eyes full of mischief and she freed her hand from his grasp.

"You think?" she teased.

"Yeah. But it's kind of an incurable thought, though," he answered with a serious tone.

"Incurable, eh?"

"Maybe there's a cure somewhere, but I don't want to be healed. I've signed a DNR," he said, smiling.

"As your medical proxy, I promise you I won't let anyone try to cure you against your will," she replied, giving him his smile back.

"Good."

She wriggled a little under the sheets and came closer to him. Her eyes locked with his, while she felt her way along his body and found his sex, taking it inside her hand, beautifully unashamed. House sucked in a sharp breath but pretended not to be affected even when her fingers slowly started to close around his length and rubbed it up and down with the firm intention of bringing it to life again. No matter how tired and old his body was, she was his fountain of youth and it was simply impossible to resist her. Even less when she leaned down to his face and started kissing him greedily, while her hand kept stroking him with growing impatience. His breathing sped up and he wrapped his arm around her, enclosing her in his embrace.

"Again," she sighed through his lips, her command the most exciting sound he could have wished for.

There was no need to answer anything. His desire for her was already very much reborn, hard and hot in her hand. He slid his hands on her ass and pressed her against him, trying to climb on top of her but she pushed him back, forcing him to lie down on his back, swiftly straddling him, and claiming his body for herself. He watched her conquer him, as she lifted herself on her knees just above him and positioned his cock between her folds. She guided him inside her, excruciatingly but deliciously slowly and gasped at the sensation of him penetrating her again. She remained still for a while, just relishing the incredible feeling of fullness and rested her hands on his chest. House splayed his large hands on her lower back and she began to move. Her spine arched in a sensual curve, pushing her breasts forward while her ass, God, her ass, round and firm under his hands, rubbed his groin, brushing his balls with each sway of her hips, in the most intoxicating way possible. She wasn't just pushing herself in and out of him but she was making those mind-blowing round movements with her belly and hips, almost as if dancing a sensual oriental dance and it sent him hurtling over the edge in no time. He gripped her hips and anchored himself to her, letting her do whatever it was she wanted to do with him. From where he was lying, under her, at her complete mercy, House was mesmerized by the way her body knew exactly how to take control of his. There had never been any doubt for him that she was the only woman he'd ever wanted that much in his whole life but seeing her, touching her, and being finally able to feel her was something his mind found hard to process even then.

"Cuddy," he moaned her name, short of breath.

In response, she rocked her hips harder and it squeezed a growl in his throat. He seized her by the wrists, making her lose her balance and she fell down on his chest.

"You feel so… real," he whispered, almost incredulous.

She pulled on her hands to free herself and he instantly released his grab. Straightening up, she sat on top of him again and resumed her hip sways, leaving him no respite.

"That's because I am real, House," she said, panting. "Me fucking you right now is real," she added with poise, staring intensely into his wide-open eyes.

That, and the merciless rhythm she had settled for their love dance, gave him enough proof that it was, indeed, not a dream. It boosted his self-confidence and, before she could anticipate his next move, he promptly gripped her by the hips and made her topple underneath him, immediately taking the lead again and pushing himself deep inside her with a strong shove.

"I think you got that wrong, baby," he said, smiling victoriously above her stunned face, "Looks like I'm the one fucking you."

And, sliding his hands under her ass, he lifted her up, finding a new angle that made the sensation of him penetrating her even more vivid than before. Cuddy gripped his biceps and gave in unreservedly, arching up and following his tempo. He buried his face between her breasts, gasping against her silky skin and he kept thrusting harder and faster until he felt her body writhe beneath him, begging for mercy. He removed his hands from her butt and put them on her shoulders to pin her down on the mattress and make the erratic jolts of her body stop. She stilled, and he looked at her heavily panting, her eyes burning with frustration as she could feel him gradually slow down. She grunted and wriggled her shoulders and he smiled at her, then picked up his pace again, relentlessly building another wave even stronger than the one that was about to crash them both merely seconds before. They came at the same time, powerfully, their synchronized ecstasy bursting out of them in completely incoherent cries.

They both found their breathing again, and House spooned her warm body along his, gently guiding her back against his chest and wrapping his arms possessively around her waist. They lay down in each other's arms, and they dozed off for a short while, feeling relaxed and sated.

House was the first to wake up, jolted out of his numbness by an unwelcomed feeling of fear. He jumped and opened his eyes then he saw her, curled up with her back against him, his arms still around her, her body taking on the exact shape of his body. Her hair had fallen in a cascade of raven curls on the pillow, uncovering the delicate line of her nape and he nuzzled her, right there, at the base of her neck, closing his eyes again and inhaling deeply to fill his nostrils with her scent. Delicately, he covered her with light kisses from her ear to her upper back and his hand, resting on the round shape of her shoulder, started caressing her skin softly. She moaned and stirred in his arms and he tightened his grasp around her waist to prevent her from turning around. He could feel her ass pressed against his groin and he instantly knew he was going to want more of her very soon. His hand on her belly slowly slid lower between her legs and she swayed her hips from left to right, grinding against him tantalizingly, feeling his growing erection pressing on the small of her back. She bent one of her legs higher, bringing her knee against her breasts and parting her thighs, like an invitation for him to touch her heat. He guided his hand to her sex, and opened her with his middle finger, finding her wet and warm. He rested his forehead between her shoulder blades and pushed his finger inside her, leisurely pumping in and out of her until she moaned lasciviously, this time unmistakably very much awake against him.

"Again?" he challenged her, smiling against the skin of her back.

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed her thighs shut, imprisoning them between her legs.

"Yes," she whispered, turning her head back to look at him over her shoulder.

He took her by the hips and positioned the small of her back just above his hipbone. Like that, her ass was resting on his lower abdomen and he put his palm on her upper thigh, guiding it up just enough to find a way between her folds to penetrate her from behind. She arched back and pushed herself against his shaft, as he pressed the tip of his erection at the entry of her core. Thrusting up, still lying on his side, with her body spooned along his, he slowly entered inside her again. He rocked his hips back and forth slowly, very slowly, pressing his palms on her belly to keep her close to him while Cuddy threw her arm behind her and gripped his ass to not lose the connection between their entwined bodies. It felt so quiet and passionate at the same time. In that position, even though he couldn't be inside her very deep, he could touch every part of her body with his, feel every inch of her skin against his; her back along his chest, her ass nestled against his lower belly, one of her thighs against his thighs, and his hands on her abdomen, her chest, and her neck, caressing her face, then slowly sliding down to cup her breasts… He was overwhelmed again, and again and he wished the feeling could never end. There, inside her, buried in her, he'd found the place where he wanted to be and stay forever, where everything felt good and there was no pain anymore.

He pushed his hips forward just a little, indicating to her with a light pressure on her back that he wanted her to lie down on her belly. She followed his silent lead and she rolled with him, until he was lying on top of her, his body sprawled along her, propped up on his elbows to shelter her beneath his large chest. She stretched her arms above her head and pushed her ass upward and, shifting his body weight on one forearm, he slid his hand under her belly, wrapping her in his arm and moving inside her again, slow, and steady. Each one of his thrusts was pining her down to the mattress but she instantly jolted her lower back up, to welcome him back into her within his next thrust. He was already losing it but when she suddenly propped herself on her elbows and pushed him backward forcefully, lifting herself up on her knees, a violent shot of adrenalin ran through his veins and dangerously sped up his heart. She was going to kill him, by overdose of pleasure but, if that's how it had to be, then he was ready to die, just there and then, the vision of her body arched up toward him, the best image to take away with him.

He straightened up too, gripped her hips and started to move again. The penetration, infinitely deeper in that position, made him instantly crazy. Or maybe it was her, under him, and the way she was bouncing her hips up every time he was pushing forward. If there was a God, which he never really believed in, the only tangible proof of his existence he was ever ready to accept was surely there, in that very instant, where his body and hers were just melting together, until another orgasm shook them both and made them collapse onto the bed, completely spent.

They were both lying on their backs, their blurry gazes fixated upon a random spot on the ceiling, their limbs feeling like jelly, as they were completely unable to move a single muscle. The sound of their puffing breaths was the only proof that they were still very much awake.

"More?" House asked, panting, without even looking at her, but only feeling her sweaty body along his.

Cuddy tilted her head to the side to look at him, the only part of her body that she was still able to move. She smiled an adorably groggy smile that betrayed how completely sex-sated she felt.

"Really? Oh God!" she said, closing her eyes, as if she was trying to locate some remaining strength deep within her. "I don't think I… it's just that… I mean… I'm exhausted," she finally confessed.

"You are?" House said, his tone indicating he was looking for confirmation.

"Yes," she blew, opening her eyes again and looking at him with guilty eyes.

House rolled his eyes skyward and sighed, a heavy sigh of relief.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, chuckling. "I thought you'd never say that!"

She laughed too and smacked him on the arm.

"Hey, I don't think I heard you complain that much," she fake-protested.

"Good God, woman, you're insatiable!"

"I have resources," she said, with mischievous eyes, "and a great source of inspiration…"

He stared at her, in awe, and gently grabbed her shoulder to pull her into him. She slid under the sheet to position herself inside his arms, unable to suppress a little moan because of the soreness she felt in her muscles when she moved.

"Are you ok?" he asked, concerned, as she laid her head atop his chest and wrapped her arm around his waist

"Yeah," she purred, cuddling comfortably against him.

"You sure you don't need anything? Drink? Something to eat maybe?"

"No, I'm good. I have everything I need. Right here," she whispered, with a sleepy voice, rubbing her nose through his chest hair.

She snuggled up closer inside his arms and he tightened his embrace around her, feeling her naked warmth along his body. He turned his head to the side, cautiously, and planted a soft kiss in her hair. She heaved a long sigh of bliss and within a beat, they both passed out, drowned in lust.

* THE END *

* * *

**A/N**

_So that's it! I know some of you wanted me to develop that story past those first four chapters, but as much as I'd love to (even though, like a fellow writer here, I'm a sucker for the kind of stories where they're getting together for the first time – wink, wink RR!) I think I like where it ends…_

_If you want to read more of them "trying the relationship thing" then, let me shamelessly point you to another one of my stories: "If You Let Me, I Might Try"._

_I know some of you already know it, but for those who haven't read it and liked that one - but somehow wanted more - then I think giving IYLM a try is a good compromise._

_Anyway, thank you SO MUCH again for reading._

_Enjoy life, be happy ~ maya_


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